


friday i’m in love

by peachesandlesbians



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, No Angst, it’s very slight tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24904753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachesandlesbians/pseuds/peachesandlesbians
Summary: Claudine watches people dance. So does Fabien.
Relationships: Claudine/Fabien Marchal
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	friday i’m in love

The rich, steady beat of makeshift percussion thrummed through Claudine’s body. Not only did the ground seem to shake, but there was a never-ending stream of laughter and chatter that contributed to the boisterous mood. 

In the past few days, she caught wind of grumblings against the king, but from the scenes in front of her, she would have never believed it. Everywhere she looked, there were wide grins and people slapping each other on the back. But the king’s birthday was a special occasion, so the festive mood didn’t come as much of a surprise. 

The marketplace Claudine visited only yesterday transformed overnight. Bright pieces of fabric hung from the stalls, and some merchants offered a generous discount. Young children ducked and weaved through any obstacles, their parents always one step behind. The aroma of fresh bread lured Claudine over, and she didn’t hesitate to purchase a loaf once she laid eyes on the golden-brown exterior. 

“Thank you so much.” She smiled at the seller, a young, gangly lad. 

“You’re very welcome, my lady. And may I just say that I’m very sorry to hear of your father’s passing?” He dusted off his shirt, avoiding Claudine’s eyes. “Although I do think you are more than capable in his absence.”

“That’s very kind of you.” She took another look at him. Underneath all that hesitation was perhaps someone worth knowing. “Thank you for the compliment. And the bread.”

Claudine left him with a bigger smile and, on his part, a red face.

Once she managed to find a hidden nook in the corner, she ripped apart the bread with gusto. 

And promptly choked it once she heard a familiar voice from behind her. 

“Having fun?”

“Fabien!” Claudine spun around, almost dropping her goods. “Must you sneak up on me like that? How did you even know I was here, anyway?”

“I didn't mean to startle you; it’s just a habit.”

“A habit you enjoy, perhaps?”

He met her gaze head-on. “Perhaps.”

Silence fell as they engaged in their little staring contest before Claudine started chuckling. “I know you. There’s no need to hide behind false pretenses.”

“Hmm.” That was an interesting quirk of his—sometimes when Claudine made an off-hand remark that was a bit too revealing, Fabien stayed quiet. No quip back, no similar declarations that weren’t quite declarations. Just a sharpened awareness in those dark eyes. 

“Besides, you never answered my other question. There’s no need to play your spy tricks on me!” Claudine teased, wanting Fabien to emerge from his mind. 

“You stand out rather often.”

  
  
“I do?” That’s a surprise.

Fabien nods, not elaborating as usual, leaving Claudine to mull his remark over in her head. They shared a companionable silence, watching the townspeople pair up for a lovely jig that involved lots of clapping and spinning around. Claudine broke the rest of the bread in half, holding a piece out to Fabien. “Here.”

He eyed her skeptically, and she had to fight against the urge to roll her eyes. What a silly man. 

“It’s good.” Claudine nudged Fabien with her elbow. “Trust me.”

Perhaps it was her words that encouraged him, or maybe he was just plain hungry, but Fabien gingerly took the bread, sniffed it (he really was quite strange), and took a bite. 

“Well?”

There was no change in his expression as he replied, “It’s not that bad.”

Coming from Fabien, that was practically a glowing endorsement. 

“Good.” Claudine nudged him again before turning her attention back on the dancers. In the quiet they shared, it was easy to find solace. Spending time together, just like this, was becoming more and more attractive to Claudine. She only hoped Fabien felt the same way. 

Just as she was about to ask him a question, the young shopkeeper from before rushed up to them. Though Fabien stiffened beside her, Claudine smiled warmly. “Well, hello again.”

“Hello there.” He grinned, scratching the back of his head. “I was just wondering if…”

“Yes?” Claudine had a small inkling as to where their conversation was going—somewhere not good. If he was going to ask her to dance … well, he was cute. And funny, she was sure. But there was another man who held her heart.

The young man awkwardly gestured to the dancing couples. “Would you like to possibly …”

Before Claudine could respond, Fabien stepped forward, his voice as cold and hard as she had ever heard it. The low tone he used only succeeded to make his menacing air more chilling. “No. Leave us.”

“W-who are you?” 

“Your worst nightmare. Now don’t make me repeat myself.” Glaring so intently made the young man turn and run, leaving Claudine torn between laughing and scolding Fabien.

“Fabien, he was hardly a threat.” 

His eyes were still stuck on the young man’s retreating back as he blended back into the shadows. “Perhaps he was.”

Every so often, Fabien dropped by her home with either a wound or a question. All her knowledge of science and, sometimes, literature would be put to use trying to soothe him. He seemed to listen, and a relationship—as tentative as it was—seemed to bloom between them. But during moments like now, he seemed as elusive and far away as ever. 

Claudine needed to bring him back. Back to her. 

“Do you dance at all?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“No.” Was his gaze always so dark when he looked at her? “Especially not to this.”

“Oh?” So perhaps Fabien did dance, but not to energetic music with so many eyes on him. Was he the type to slow dance with a lover in a dim room? It was hard to picture him doing something so romantic or even partaking in something besides his duty. There were so many layers to him that it infuriated and intrigued her in equal measures.

The music morphed into something slower with a melody that seemed to glide or sway. The volume decreased into an intimate whisper, proving an ample reason for the couples to press together. Watching the dancers almost felt like she was intruding on something too private. 

“And what about this type of music?” Claudine shifted a step closer to Fabien.

His response, though not verbal, thrilled her. Instead, Fabien lifted the corner of his mouth an inch, too faint to be called a smirk, but too little to be a smile. It was an odd mixture of the two and something else—something that was unfamiliar to both of them.

Fabien knew her smiles well, and he was granted another one. Claudine shifted again and moved to brush his gloved pinky with hers, a deep blush on her face. Just as she withdrew from nerves, he reached out and held on. In silence, they watched the dancing from their little corner, their only movement being the tightening of their interlaced pinkies. 

* * *

_“I don't care if Monday's black_

_Tuesday, Wednesday, heart attack_

_Thursday, never looking back_

_It's Friday, I'm in love”_ — Friday I’m In Love, Phoebe Bridgers

  
  



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